


I Am Become Death

by bethevibeyouseek



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethevibeyouseek/pseuds/bethevibeyouseek
Summary: Franky Doyle deals with the loss of Bridget in the only way she knows how. Takes place during S5E8.





	I Am Become Death

**Author's Note:**

> The devil asked me how I knew my way around the halls of Hell. I told him I don't need a map for the darkness I know so well. - t.m.t
> 
> PS - Please pay attention to warnings, this is some pretty angsty stuff. 
> 
> PPS - I apologize that all I seem able to write is angst and smut. Fluff is not in my arsenal as of late.

_“I fuckin’ love you!”_  
_“And I fuckin’ love you too.”_  
_“It’s not over.”_  
_“Bye, Franky.”_  
_“No, we’re not done._ ”

Like a broken record, the words repeated over and over in Franky’s mind as she slumped back to her unit before the tears began to fall. _A few more steps_ , she promised herself. _Don’t let them see you._ She could have walked the route with her eyes closed by this point. Autopilot kicked in after three years. She couldn’t remember what life was like before Wentworth. Before her.  
  
It was bound to happen. Things in Franky’s life never worked out. Plans had always failed no matter how hard she tried. She’d spent the better part of the year rebranding herself as a changed woman. She wasn’t going to be another statistic. Not after clawing through her split nails to get out of the pit of despair she had lived in. She’d resided in the cold and lonely space for her entire life. The hole had become like a blanket protecting her from the world. Her eyes had adjusted to her life in darkness just like a nocturnal creature. Darkness was her home. No one could see her there. She was safe. Until Bridget had shone the flashlight and offered her a hand out of the deep hiding space. She’d coaxed her out of the cave like a frightened animal, careful not to make any sudden movements to spook her.  
  
And it had worked. She was finally happy. She was in love and loved in return. More importantly, she had found a companion with which she wasn’t afraid to share the darkest parts of herself. Bridget had become her most loyal friend. Things were perfect for a little while. It was easy to get comfortable with the warmth that permeated her chest. After a while on the outside, she even felt herself relax from the iron in her veins. She’d stopped snapping in anger.  
  
Then, as if her life was being controlled by some sick twisted higher power, it was gone. The moment her hands were placed back into the steal bracelets, she fell back down her rabbit hole engulfed in the black cave. Was it even real to begin with? Or had it just been some form of daydream she’d let herself believe in? Part of her had died when she put the teal tracksuit back on. Then another when she watched Bridget turn her back and leave her behind.

 

_She doesn’t want you_

 

Her mother’s voice always had a way of finding its way into her mind at these times. It had replaced her conscience long ago. She had been able to put an end to the thoughts for a while with the help of the only woman who had ever seen her. Not only had Bridget seen her and understood her without judgement.  
  
Destiny was an inescapable force. For a while Franky believed with every fiber of her being that she was destined to be killed inside the barbed wire fence. Several times her pathetic life had flashed before her eyes when the walls were closing in. She could have died so many times at the hand of so many. Why hadn’t they just put her out of her misery then? Hadn’t they seen the pain ticked in the hazel flakes in her eyes? Hadn’t they seen her bleeding out in silent agony? Franky wished they had just found the courage to drag her behind the barn and ended her. At least then she wouldn’t know the debilitating pain of true heartbreak.  
  
Franky would take physical pain over the empty feeling inside her spreading like disease. Physical pain made sense. Physical pain was easy to overcome. She could escape into the retreats of her mind. She was a professional at floating away from her body during those moments. Her childhood was just the rehearsal. Her mother had been gracious enough to teach her to fly away. She created a safe space inside herself when the twitching woman would scream in her face with the stench of alcohol burning Franky’s doe-like eyes. She’d watched from the air above while her mother tortured her body. Little did the addict know, Franky’s body was just the shell that held her together. Once she had learned to fly, she stopped screaming and crying when the red hot cigarettes seared her flesh. The game wasn’t fun for her mother when she stopped playing. The response was what the bitch had craved. When Franky stopped fighting back is when she dismissed the girl entirely. But now she couldn’t take off away from her body with heartache tearing her insides apart. She was stuck with her feet glued to the cold laminate floor. She was stuck with the pain swirling inside of her. It was something with which she wasn’t well versed.  
  
She’d been lost in thought and ended up in front of the cell she never imagined she’d come back to. It had been her longest and most consistent residence to date. How pathetic was that? She entered and closed the door tightly behind her. She didn’t care what anyone thought. She collapsed on the thin mat and pulled the weak excuse for a pillow close to her chest. It was the closest she’d get to the comfort of physical touch that she’d ever have again. She skipped dinner, and the girls had the decency to give her a wide breadth all evening. She didn’t look up from the floor during the final head count. She wasn’t even sure how she managed to pull herself from her safe cocoon to lean heavily against the door until her name was called. The unit was finally tucked in bed for the night.

  
Darkness had fallen and she fell back into her mind.

 

_She doesn’t want you._

 

Franky shook her head trying to shake them away as she tossed and turned.

 

_Anger and hope that’s you all over_

 

She stood to pace the small cell.

 

_You’re shit, Franky! You’re shit!_

 

She let the tears fall without fighting them anymore. Her throat closing up as she fell deeper than ever before.

 

_You’re a frightened little kid paddling out of your depth. You’re shit scared. You’ve swum out too far and you’re not going to make it back to shore and you know what? I don’t reckon you can._

 

She tore her nails down her forearm, anything to stop the needle pinned down replaying the words that stuck to her heart like spurs from a cactus. They were right all along. How had she denied it for so long?

 

_You want to hurt me? Congratulations, Baby._

 

She pulled the delicate length of scarf from its hiding place underneath her mattress. Bridget had left it on her coat rack in her haste to leave the brunette behind. It had been one of the only things Franky had been able to gift to her. She’d found it in a shop when she was purchasing some clothes for her new job. She had loved the way the soft material felt on the tips of her fingers. It seemed ironic that the blonde had left it, shedding herself of everything that reminded her Franky Doyle. The length was long enough to wrap around and tie delicately around the psychologist’s neck in such a way. It was just a strip of fabric, but when manipulated in Bridget’s hands, it became something else entirely. Franky never understood how she had twisted and turned it into something beautiful. How could she do that?

  
The only knots Franky could tie were not those of beauty, but those to escape. The ties came back to her with ease. When she had finished, she silently wrapped it around the metal of her door careful not to disturb the sleeping women. She came into this world alone, and that’s how she would leave it. Franky finally gave into the darkness of the cave and let it swallow her whole.

 

 _“Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds”_  
_\- J. Robert Oppenheimer_


End file.
